Kieru na
by Jennifier D
Summary: [TezuFuji] "You can't give another person's heart away, even if you do own it."


**Author's Note: **  
My first and (probably) last TezuFuji. The muses attacked me, I swear. This wasn't voluntary. Because I don't really like typical fanon pairings. TezuRyo's an exception :P Regardless, please be armed with whatever you need (against angst and whatnot) because this is going to be a long trip :)

** Warning and Disclaimer:**  
I do not claim to own any of the character involved, only the muses and the plot. Everything else from Tenisu no Oujisama belongs to Konomi Takeshi-sensei. And we all love him for producing this series, don't we? Some spoilers for events which happened (or are recalled) during the Hyotei arc. And generally for the whole anime series, I think, right up to the Hyotei arc.

Date Started: 230703

-----

  
**Kieru na...**  
by  
Jennifier D.

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


-----

__

slowly, even my memories of you are fading  
as I raise my hand towards the sky above--  
stretching for the light falling into my eyes  
even now, I can still see everything so clearly  
the instance where you let go of my hand  
and gradually forgot how to smile...

-----

  
He still remembered the first time they spoke to each other.

Tezuka was preparing for the day's practice; it was briefly after the incident where Yamato-buchou asked him to become the pillar of Seigaku. Fuji Syuusuke was standing by the courts watching their upperclassmen do some preparatory work before the actual practice started. He was of such an insignificant frame-- small, thin and almost fragile-looking. The first thing about him that caught Tezuka's eyes when he glanced over wasn't the fact that he had his eyes closed all the time. It was his smile.

Apparently, Tezuka wasn't the only one who noticed that smile.

As he grew older, many people began to realise that Fuji's smile was one full of hidden intent. Although it was one of the most charming and innocent smiles one had ever seen in one's life, it was probably also the smile of a person no-one wanted to mess around with. There was too much confidence behind a simple quirk of the lips. Too many hidden traps. Normal people would start to pale when they realise that Fuji was smiling at them. Because he smiled in a manner which said he had found something extremely amusing, and nobody other than him would probably find the situation just as amusing.

"Ahh, you must be Tezuka-kun."

The bespectacled boy paused, then straightened, staring at Fuji. "Ee."

"I've heard a lot about you."

Tezuka observed the friendly smile on Fuji's face, observed the way the other boy seemed unafraid of his stoic expression and stare, then turned back to his racket bag without saying anything.

Fuji didn't seem disturbed by his attitude in the least bit, whereas if he had done that to any of the upperclassmen, he probably would have earned himself a few shouts and some careless shoving. That might happen a couple of weeks ago, but not anymore. His senpai had all started treading around him with a type of grudging respect ever since the incident where he tried to quit the club.

"Hey, isn't that Fuji, the tensai?" One upperclassman leered to another just a little away from Tezuka, his laughter loud and harsh to the ears. "I heard that he won titles in the junior championships! Can you imagine _that_? I think we can only _dream_ of doing what he did!"

The laughter continued, and Tezuka paused to glance over again.

"Can I call you Tezuka?"

Fuji was still smiling. In fact, Fuji wasn't even paying attention to the two upperclassmen. His smile was trained on Tezuka, as if he was patiently waiting for Tezuka to say something. The bespectacled boy turned away. Attitude like that was going to earn him trouble. Especially in their club, where people played not for the sport, but for the glamour of playing.

"Nn." Tezuka nodded.

"If he's so good, why would he want to be in our _measly little_ tennis club? I'm sure we're not even _challenging_ to him!"

"Ne, Tezuka-kun, are you ready?" Tezuka turned to where Oishi was standing beside him, eyeing the two upperclassmen a little warily. He picked up his racket.

"Yes." He turned to Fuji. "Practice is going to start soon."

The tensai's smile seemed to brighten. "Ahh. I better go get my racket then."

Fuji then turned away, still ignoring those seniors, and headed for the locker room. The vague, yet distinctively cheerful smile on Fuji's face disturbed Tezuka on several levels. He wasn't very sure what was it that the other wanted from him. In fact, he had not been sure about a single thing Fuji did that day.

"He's ignoring us." One of the upperclassmen frowned, then nudged his friend. "Such arrogance! That kid is worse the Tezuka-kid."

"Ah, we'll see how long he can stay cocky." The 'leader' of the group sneered, then turned to glance at Tezuka. "Just like this one."

Tezuka ignored them and started for the courts while Oishi ran after him to keep up with his pace, a worried look on his face. "Tezuka-kun, do you think it's really okay to-"

"Everyone, let's do twenty laps together as a warm-up!" Yamato-buchou's voice effectively stopped the two upperclassmen and Oishi from saying anything anymore; everyone started to move outside the courts.

Tezuka glanced behind himself once, noting where Fuji was standing behind those taller upperclassmen before he started his run. The other boy was a strange person, full of little quirks which nobody could understand. Granted, he was talented to an extent that raised fear in their seniors, and such talent was rare. Maybe that was why he was called a prodigy. Even Yamato-buchou had taken notice of the small-sized boy and spoke to him rather frequently during their club activities. Tezuka wondered briefly about what it would be like to play against him.

Later in his life, Tezuka found himself recalling their first meeting rather frequently.

He then wondered if he could have done something to save the other back then, if he had known what was going to happen in the days to come.

  
-----

  
"He drives me crazy. I hate that smile of his."

There was a vague murmur of agreement after Takeshi -the very same upperclassman who attacked Tezuka just a couple of weeks ago- spoke up loudly in the tennis courts, giving Fuji a pointed look. Although Tezuka annoyed a number of them to some degree, he had a wiry strength to him which no-one could deny. And after what happened between Takeshi and him the last time, nobody dared to actually attack him again.

Fuji, on the other hand, had always stayed out of his senpai's way. He frame was a little smaller than Tezuka's, he wasn't any more annoying than Tezuka had been, but what really got to those seniors´ heads was his smile. The unchanging smile on his face.

Sweet Fuji-kun, who seemed so innocent, harmless and nice to those around him. The teachers liked him, but the smarter ones were aware of those instances where Fuji actually said things that sounded innocent on the surface, but was sharply cutting underneath. His year mates all liked him a lot, because he was such a nice and sweet person.

In Takeshi's eyes, he was a constant threat, right after Tezuka. But Tezuka was out-of-bounds now, and since Yamato-buchou was keeping a tighter hold on Takeshi of late, he had to vent his frustration somewhere.

Fuji made the perfect target.

The lowerclassman turned to regard his senior with a vaguely perplexed closed-eye look.

"Don't you just hate it when he does that? It feels like he's fooling around with us, taking us for idiots."

Nobody wanted to say anything, because Takeshi had touched on a huge question mark in everyone's mind where it concerned Fuji. Yet, nobody really wanted to pick on the younger boy either, because he seemed so very fragile and harmless at times. There were a lot of conflicting issues within their minds, and most of them tried to ignore those issues. A number of them were third year students. They only had one year left in the school... there was no point getting themselves into unnecessary trouble.

But Takeshi wasn't a third year student. And there were things he wanted to do.

Ruin that happy smile on Fuji's face. That would teach him to smile at everyone constantly. A part of himself was afraid of the younger boy, because he seemed to know so much more than it was possible. Another part of him loathed Fuji, loathed his very existence. Because people like Fuji meant that people like Takeshi would never make his way into the ranking matches, would never become a part of the regular team in Seigaku. People like Fuji, who were gifted with the talent of playing tennis but failed to appreciate what they were given, whereas Takeshi could only dream of having a third of what Fuji possessed.

He hated him.

In fact, Fuji was worse than Tezuka. Fuji was unassuming. He was cheerful half the time, and never took offence to what his seniors said. He was given extra attention by their captain, and yet he attended practices with only half a heart. Takeshi suspected that Fuji attended practices only to see Tezuka. The most incriminating fact (which Takeshi had some difficulty justifying) was probably how pretty Fuji was.

It was almost disgusting.

Someone like him... someone who seemed so weak, useless and girly actually defeated all the non-regular members in their club. It wasn't supposed to happen. Takeshi hated Fuji more than he feared him. And he was sure that he could gather some people who felt the same. Even if they were not from the tennis club. People like Fuji had a tendency to annoy people around him, he was sure of that. How could anyone not be annoyed by that disgustingly innocent smile? He was a devil in an angel's disguise.

Time to bring the angel down to earth. Destroy his disguise. Rip off those fake wings.

Got to teach him a bit about humanity.

Nobody could possibly get through life on smiling alone.

  
-----

  
There were no tears.

Fuji had been a lot stronger than he appeared. That was one fact which Tezuka could neither refute, nor ignore. He admired the courage and endurance the other had. He admired his strength. When Tezuka found him alone in a toilet cubicle, there was nothing but a blank expression on his face, and smudges of blood and something else on his bruised face, mouth and body.

For several moments, Tezuka could only stand there and stare at the other in shock.

Despite his dishevelled state, his bruised body and face, Fuji could still smile (shakily) at Tezuka and murmur 'How embarrassing.'

Tezuka didn't know what made him run all the way back to school after practice was over. He didn't know what gave him the awkward sense of urgency, or the violent stab of fear that something was wrong. He couldn't explain what made him run for the toilets when he made sure that the locker room was locked and there wasn't anyone inside.

The bespectacled boy reached for the other's thin wrist, noting the bruises calmly. Something had to be done. Fuji didn't flinch when he touched him, neither did he grimace or made any sound of pain. The only indication of his pain was the slight frown which appeared between his brows, faint and insignificant.

"Are you alright?"

"Maa..." Fuji smiled, but Tezuka could see his lips trembling faintly from the effort. "I'm fine. It's not the first time something like this happened anyway..."

The tensai rubbed his chin with a vague frown, eyes still closed. "But usually, it's not this serious."

Tezuka didn't know what to say in reply.

The dark-haired boy cleaned up the other the best he could with his handkerchief, helped him get dressed, then tried to get him to stand up.

"Can you stand?"

Fuji shook his head, the smile on his face faint and wavering. "Gomen ne..."

"I'll help you."

The both of them made their way to Tezuka's home in silence, and Fuji didn't say a single word throughout the whole journey. Luckily for them, neither his parents nor his grandfather questioned Fuji's current state, and they made their way to Tezuka's room with little interruption.

"Do you want to stay here for the night?"

The tensai shook his head with a faint smile. "It's alright, Tezuka. I can go home on my own later."

There was worry, and then there was something else.

Tezuka loaned him fresh clothes to wear; it was a good thing that the difference in their frames wasn't too big. While Fuji bathed, Tezuka sat on his bed and thought about a lot of things. He wondered if this would ever happen again. He suspect that it wouldn't.

They were a whole bunch of cowards. The moment they knew they were unable to intimidate Fuji, they were unable to make him bow down to them regardless of what they did, they would give up. Now they knew Fuji was unafraid of them, and he was anything but weak and effeminate. They won on the basis of strength of numbers, and that was hardly a decent way to win. They could break Fuji's body, but never his mind or his spirit. He was that strong.

Furthermore, nobody would want such news to leak out to the school authorities.

Before he left Tezuka's house, Fuji had smiled, bowed, then thanked the former for his hospitality.

When they met each other in school again the next week, Fuji only smiled and continued as if nothing drastic happened to him a week ago. Tezuka wondered about the smile he wore on his face. Was it genuine, or was it another mask to cover up his fear and his pain?

He didn't know.

And somehow, Tezuka felt that there wasn't a need to know.

  
-----

  
When Kikumaru Eiji joined their tennis club, Tezuka noticed certain changes.

First of all, Kikumaru was Fuji's classmate, which meant that the both of them spent a large portion of time together, on courts or off. Secondly, Kikumaru was an insanely cheerful character. Unlike Fuji, who was quietly amused by things which nobody could ever fathom half the time, Kikumaru was a cheerful and hyper energetic ball bouncing from one end of their school to another.

People could hear his (cheerful) exclamations miles off. And his happiness was somewhat contagious.

Kikumaru was a changing point for several things in their club. The seniors welcomed his presence and took to him much more easily than they did for Tezuka and Fuji. Then again, after Tezuka and Fuji, anybody would seem like a better alternative, and who could possibly dislike Kikumaru Eiji? There seemed to be nothing disdainful about him at all. Even Ryuzaki-sensei had said that Kikumaru was like sunshine and laughter, and he was therapeutic for everyone.

Tezuka soon noticed Oishi noticing Kikumaru. And then, he noticed Fuji noticing himself amidst all these.

It would have been amusing if his sense of humour ran in that direction. Unfortunately, Tezuka happened to be someone who (wasn't without a sense of humour, but) was equipped with a very dry sense of humour and therefore, was hardly amused by nature's little jokes.

Fuji, on the other hand, was appreciative of such jokes.

While Fuji was innocently nudging (the oblivious and happy) Kikumaru along, Tezuka did nothing of the sort. The last thing he wanted was a blushing and (weakly) protesting Oishi on his hands.

It felt as if summer had arrive early, and everyone seemed to be busy with something. The various incidents caused by Takeshi were forgotten and tossed away into the wind, to be blown in whichever direction it pleased. Things in the clubs were moving along at a comfortable pace; everyone was slowly, but surely improving. Yamato-buchou was pleased with the progress everyone made, but he never volunteered to cut down the number of laps they did. In fact, he increased them.

With so many things happening, and so little problems arising in the club, Tezuka almost forgot about what happened just a few months ago. He almost forgot that he had actually witnessed the remnants of a type of cruelty he would never be able to understand. A type of petty rage which true sportsmen were not supposed to show.

It was during one cool morning at practice that he recalled everything which happened. Nobody except the regulars arrived that early in the morning. But on that morning, Kikumaru had come to him and spoke with a type of seriousness he never knew the other had.

"Tezuka-kun..."

He looked up from where he was kneeling by his racket bag, the look on his face expressionless like usual. "Yes?"

"Did something happen to Fuji before I joined the club?"

For a long period of time, there was nothing but the sound of the morning breeze sighing.

Tezuka nodded. "Yes."

Something unfamiliar -something close to sorrow- fled past Kikumaru's face. "He didn't want to tell me."

"Maybe it's not meant to be told."

For the first time since they met, Kikumaru held Tezuka's gaze right till the end. He blinked when Tezuka broke the eye contact, then sighed, loudly and dramatically. "If only I can be strong like him nya..."

By then, Tezuka had already turned back to his racket bag. "You can if you want to."

"Maa, Eiji... what are you doing here so early in the morning?"

"Uuuuhhanyaa..." Kikumaru seemed embarrassed about something when he saw Fuji walking towards them, his racket bag slung over a shoulder. "Nothing~! I'm going to meet Oishi-kun for breakfast now nya! Baibai!"

And the hyperactive boy bounced off faster than Fuji could go 'Ahh.'

Fuji removed his racket with a thoughtful smile, then turned to Tezuka. "Do you think he has found out?"

There was a pause. "Yes."

"Saa... I don't plan to tell him about it until later..."

Tezuka stood up with his racket, a quiet look on his face. "You don't have to tell him if you don't want to."

"Ehh?" Fuji turned, perplexed. "Why not? It's not as if the two of us are doing something illegal. We're just practicing tennis, aren't we?"

There was a very brief pause as Tezuka readjusted their topic of discussion in his mind.

"Hm."

And the two of them started their practice for the day.

  
-----

  
Soon enough, even Yamato-buchou noticed the strange affinity between Tezuka and Fuji.

Not that the two of them spent an extraordinary amount of time together or anything... but there was something unsaid between the both of them. Something agreed upon, something shared, and something that was private enough that nobody ever figured out what was going on.

The buchou liked the bunch of freshmen they had that year.

Kikumaru was a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and hyper-active kid. Tezuka and Fuji ran into problems with their seniors a while back, but they were resolved, apparently. Takeshi hardly spoke up about them anymore. Oishi was quietly supportive of Tezuka, and the both of them were developing a rather peculiar type of close friendship. Inui was a quiet boy who never said anything much. He was seen most frequently with a notebook. Hidden behind a pair of (highly reflective) glasses, and equipped with a vague, not-quite-there type of presence, Inui kept himself sheltered from the nastier members of their club. Kawamura was another quiet one, but he was more shy and hesitant than anything else. The older boys had a tendency to take advantage of his indecisive nature, but put a racket in his hand and he would put everyone around him to shame with his passion for tennis.

All in all, the next year was going to be good.

There was something he wanted to investigate, though. A while back, he heard rumours of abuse. Towards a first year student. Nothing was reported to the school authorities, but then again, usually the kid would refuse to report such incidents. They were humiliating enough all on their own without being broadcasted to the whole school.

"Ne, Fuji-kun."

Fuji had been practicing how to deliver his serves with precision like all the other regulars in the A court. He paused in his swinging, then turned to give Yamato-buchou a faint, perplexed look. The older boy was amused to note to himself that sometimes, he too wondered if he was being made a fool of by the younger boy. But he also knew that Fuji would never harm others simply for the sake of amusing himself. He might have a queer sense of humour, but he definitely wasn't cruel.

"Buchou?" Fuji smiled, inquiringly.

"I've heard rumours about a first year student being abused a while back... do you have any idea who that person may be?"

Did he just see the smile on the younger boy's face stiffen, for the briefest of instances?

"Saa... I really have no idea."

"Hmmn," Yamato smiled, then nodded. "It's okay. Do continue practising. Maybe Tezuka-kun might know who that student is."

"Ahh... I'm sorry that I can't be of any help to you." A slight frown.

"Oh, it's not a big problem. No worries about it. I just want to know who he is. I'd like to talk to him."

And the smile was back on Fuji's face again, cheerful and harmless (seeming).

It was an inevitable part of schooling. The younger students would never be able to protect themselves against their seniors if they were picked on. That was the flaw of their social system. They were not supposed to stand up against those older than them-- not allowed to, even. All the social conditioning they were put through since they were children... to respect the elders, to give in to their superiors, to be polite and careful and humours at the same time when they talk...

Some of them never knew what hit them until everything was over and they woke up in the infirmary.

Now, he could only hope that the damage was nothing more than some fractured ribs and ugly bruises that might take a few weeks to heal. If the damages went deeper than that, regardless of how strong a child was, mentally, there would always be lasting effects.

And sometimes such damages were permanent.

  
-----

  
Sometimes, even with his incredible wit and terrible sense of humour, Fuji found himself unable to approach the other and tell him what he wanted to say. He wasn't afraid of him. Neither was he afraid of saying something wrong. But there was that one last barrier between them that hadn't been breeched... the closeness he somehow failed to encourage to grow between them. That was why, more than a half a year after he met Tezuka, after Oishi and Kikumaru started preparing to become a doubles pair, he chose to play doubles with Kawamura.

Tezuka had never been the kind of person who could play doubles, anyway.

It was amazing what one summer could do for everyone. Everyone seemed to have shot up over the longest break they had in the whole year, and when they returned, bronzed and smelling of beaches and sunshine, Fuji was glad to know that nobody was left behind in the sudden growth spurt.

Tezuka hardly looked like a teenager when he returned from the long break. Tall and still a little too thin, his height ranked above the other first year students (with the exception of Inui and Kawamura.) A part of Fuji wondered if he could ever become as tall as Tezuka was, then thought better about it. Height might not work to his advantage after all, because he was fine-boned and he had a small frame to begin with. Extra height would only stretch him out and make him all gawky, like a teenager who was still trying to get used to growing up.

The rest of the summer, autumn and winter for that year were relatively boring (as compared to spring), full of training and what not. And a lot of preparations were done on the senior´s part for their final term at Seigaku Junior High. Everyone passed through that period of time in a daze-like state, therefore Yamato-buchou decided to double his efforts in training everyone (in horrendous and torturous methods) before he left the club in their next captain's hands.

By the time their second year began in April, a couple of empty places in the regulars were filled up by Oishi and Kikumaru. Tezuka and Fuji had been part of the school team since their first year in school, so they continued to stay on. Kawamura seemed to have fought his way onto the school team based on his inhuman strength alone. Inui didn't make it during the ranking matches, though. 

On instances where Fuji tried talking to Inui, the other boy had given him nothing other than monotonous answers. Fuji realised that Inui was another deep one. But his full potential would only be known when he was willing to let the others see it.

He was patient. He would like to wait, and see. He suspected that Inui shared his sense of humour for certain things. It couldn't possibly be for everything (because very few people could actually appreciate the way his mind worked,) but there had certainly been something similar in the other's strange attitude towards tennis. It might possibly be all about winning and data-collection, and at the same time, it might not.

That was why he chose Kawamura Takashi.

Taka-san, as he had dubbed the other, was a gentle soul. He liked him a lot. There was something about him which made Fuji want to reach out and hold his hands, to assure him that everything would be fine if he could spare a little more confidence in himself.

Fuji's gentleness, too, must have reached Kawamura somehow, because the latter actually had the idea to call him Fujiko-chan. Amusing, but a little strange, nonetheless. He wasn't bothered though. Kawamura meant no harm with his words, and usually, he was a pretty harmless person. The important thing was to stand a little further away from him when he was holding a racket, gesturing wildly with it and shooting English phrases and words like a roaring machine gun.

About a month after their new school term began, and after Tezuka was appointed the vice-captain of the team, Fuji found the bespectacled boy sitting in their locker room musing over something with an empty look on his face.

"Tezuka?"

The other boy turned to look at him, his now leaner, sharper face emotionless. "Yes?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Nn."

The both of them continued staring at each other for a long time. Maybe staring wasn't the right word, since Fuji had his eyes closed, but the implication of a staring contest occurring was still correct.

"What are you worried about?"

It seemed as though he had hit the nail on its head.

Tezuka glanced up, quiet. "I'm worried about Seigaku."

"The nationals are still quite a few months away."

"Hm."

Fuji took the seat beside Tezuka on the bench, then smiled in an encouraging manner. "Maa... Don't worry. I'm sure all of us will try our best again this year."

Tezuka didn't say anything. The both of them sat there in that manner for a long time, unaware of the passage of time, uncaring about the world outside their locker room. It was still too early for school to have started, and there were no morning practices that day, so nobody would be heading for the locker room.

"Ne Tezuka..." Fuji sudden spoke up without the usual cheer in his voice. "Do you remember what happened around this time last year...?"

The bespectacled boy had his gaze trained on the dusty floor of the locker room. "Yes."

"Good..." Fuji sighed, a little softly and a little tiredly, though the smile on his face never wavered. "Don't let it happen again this year."

"I won't."

And the smile on his face brightened, slightly. He turned to Tezuka, then reached out as if to touch his shoulder, but thought better about it and let his hand fall back onto his lap. The vice-captain turned to stare at him.

"I remember everything, Fuji." A pause. "I don't want to see anyone go through that again."

There was a slow nod from Fuji before he lowered his head to stare at the floor. "Of course... you are the vice-captain now after all..."

"No." Fuji waited for Tezuka to continue, his eyes closed. "It's because I can still remember what happened to you."

Fuji knew that if he just lifted his head a little, he would be able to sense Tezuka's confidence when he said that sentence. A part of himself was grateful that he still remembered. Another part of him wondered if that was all Tezuka ever remembered of him. Or if... that was a reason for the vice-captain to pity him, and thus let Fuji stay by his side for so long.

"Fuji..." Tezuka's voice was like a calming siren's call in his mind. "I won't ask you to forget, but I hope that you can move on without that burden."

Fuji thought about what he said for a moment, then spoke up, his voice strong and firm. "Are you willing to help me then?"

"I'll do anything to help you, if that's what you need."

The tensai smiled, genuinely this time, then reached over very slowly, very carefully, to take Tezuka's hand and squeeze it gently. Fuji opened his eyes.

"Thank you."

Tezuka replied by giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. The two of them continued holding hands, but they didn't meet each other's gaze inside the slightly dusty locker room... Tezuka with his expressionless face and Fuji with his smiling one. Fuji would have liked doing that had Oishi not chosen to open the door approximately ten minutes prior to when the school bell would ring, looking for Tezuka.

"Ah! I hope I didn't-"

"Maa, Oishi... you're just on time. I was going to look for you. Have you seen Eiji this morning?"

The look Oishi gave Fuji was slightly bewildered. "Uhh... Nn, I did... He's in his class."

"Thank you..." And Fuji slipped through the door into the faint morning sunshine, a wide smile on his lips. Behind himself, he could hear Oishi asking Tezuka questions, but no answers were offered by the stoic vice-captain.

Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Fuji opened his eyes, gazing quietly at the empty courts.

He wondered then, if Tezuka would be able to pay the price he asked for. He had said anything, but did he really mean anything? Anything was a very large price to pay.

Anything was almost like everything to the tensai.

  
-----

  
There were only two promising freshmen that year. That was what Tezuka thought when everyone was being assigned their respective tasks. Momoshirou Takeshi and Kaidoh Kaoru both showed an impressive amount of tenacity and perseverance in their training, and the fact that they were high competitive against each other helped them along. That was what Tezuka liked to see. Confidence, perseverance, and the ability to continue pushing on despite circumstances.

Yet, he was still aware of the fact that they might not make their way to the nationals this year.

There would be still the next year. Even if it was going to be his last year in the school... Tezuka was willing to give up everything for the tennis club. He had promised Yamato-buchou. He promised to become the pillar of Seigaku. He promised to bring them to the nationals. And he would do it.

Fuji's younger brother was in Seigaku for a brief period of time before he transferred out of the school. Contrary to expectations or beliefs, Fuji Yuuta was the total opposite of his brother. Where Fuji Syuusuke was calm and vague, Yuuta was brash and passionate. Where the older brother had been calmly and patiently accepting of his brother, the younger brother rejected the older one with a type of strange viciousness.

He understood that being overshadowed by an older brother constantly wasn't easy. Furthermore, Fuji was a prodigy. To stand in the shadow of a prodigy (even if he happened to be his older brother), and constantly aspire to reach his level of expertise must have been hard on the younger boy. And he had been in that shadow ever since he was a child. That must have made things a lot worse.

Fuji never said anything though. Not even when his brother transferred out. Tezuka could tell that he was disappointed, and maybe a little hurt by his brother's attitude, but he was careful to never reveal such emotions on his face. Other than a smile, Fuji hardly wore any other expression on his face.

The tensai had been strangely quiet ever since Yuuta left their school. Nothing seemed to be able to hold his attention for long. Even his playing had slackened, and he played with half a heart. But that was something nobody else in the club would notice, because Fuji gave nobody except Tezuka the chance to see him in that state. Tezuka wanted to know what was bothering the tensai. He could make a wild guess and yet, and the same time, he knew that it wasn't his place to interfere.

"Ne Tezuka..."

He stopped and turned from where he was practicing his serves, then regarded the tensai standing behind him with a quiet look.

Fuji turned his face as if to welcome the cool breeze that was blowing in their direction, then smiled, cheerful. "Can you feel it? Summer is arriving."

Already, the weather was beginning to turn warm.

"Nn."

He continued to practice serves, while Fuji simply stood there and watched him. And smiled.

"Saa... Let's go somewhere during this summer vacation."

Tezuka didn't say anything. Then again, he didn't have to say anything. It wasn't exactly a request to begin with.

And indeed, things happened as he had predicted. They didn't make their way to the nationals that year. Hyotei was a difficult hurdle to cross. Tezuka was glad to say that although they didn't manage to make their way to the nationals, they had all still made incredible progress. Oishi's choice to play doubles with Kikumaru was right. The two of them were more compatible than any doubles team he had ever come across before.

With Tezuka there as the vice-captain, it felt as if Ryuzaki-sensei had taken a back seat. Most of the time, she would visit them at the courts as and when she felt like it, supervising them when Tezuka was busy doing something else for the club. She also seemed to be pretty satisfied with the current arrangement, and left things as they were.

Fuji's silence and not-quite-there smiles throughout the rest of that term reminded Tezuka constantly of what he said before the tournaments. He wanted to go somewhere that summer. It had felt like something which an escapist would say, but Fuji was certainly not one. 

Tezuka wondered if he should have said something then. Some affirmative? Or should he decline him? Tezuka was never a very sociable person to begin with. Although he wasn't the one taking initiative in a lot of things, he wasn't turning Fuji down either.

A part of him was curious to see what Fuji wanted to tell him.

There seemed to be something on the other boy's mind, and yet... he seemed extraordinarily vague about it. It wasn't exactly out of his character to behave in that manner, but something felt wrong. It wasn't an obvious behaviour on his part either, but Tezuka was unnaturally sharp when it came to his fellow team mates, so therefore he noticed. And he did notice quite a lot of things as the vice-captain of the team.

As their summer vacation slowly neared, Tezuka waited for Fuji to approach him.

When Fuji failed to do that, he began to think that the other had forgotten what he said one distant morning in their dusty club room. It felt almost surreal to think back upon that occasion, where Fuji had held his hand like it meant something.

He didn't want to speculate upon that thought.

The false sense of serenity he had fallen into at the beginning of their summer vacation was broken by a call from Fuji a week into the holidays. The tensai seemed to be extremely cheerful about something, and Tezuka had no idea what it could possibly be.

"Tezuka?"

"Hm?"

"Let's go fishing."

And that was what they spent one weekend doing.

  
-----

  
Fuji liked sitting on those large and slightly slippery rocks by the stream, fishing rod held in one hand, camera bag slung around his neck. While the both of them fished, he would take pictures of their surroundings occasionally. And when Tezuka wasn't looking, he would take pictures of the stoic boy. The constant smile on Fuji's face was almost insanely cheerful.

On their way back to the cabin (which belonged to Tezuka's family) they were supposed to stay for the night, Fuji slipped and fell into the river. Luckily, it wasn't a very deep stream, and neither was it as fast running as the ones they fished in earlier in the day.

Tezuka left Fuji alone in the cabin to search for some dry twigs, as the amount of firewood left in the cabin had been insufficient. When he opened the door to the cabin again, he was greeted by the sight of Fuji's naked body.

Granted, it was the back view of his body as he was removing his soaked clothes, but Tezuka was still caught.

Caught by the sight of the other's slender and effeminate frame, caught by the pale skin and smooth muscles, caught by the flickering reflections of firelight on the wet trails of water running down his back.

Without another word, the bespectacled boy had turned away and closed the door behind himself quietly.

He stood alone outside for several moments until he felt it was alright for him to enter again, then opened the door and stepped in. Fuji was wrapped up in a blanket and had huddled close to the small fire burning at the side of the cabin. Tezuka placed the twigs by the fire and sat down to remove his shoes, quiet.

"That was awfully clumsy of me."

There was no reply from the vice-captain.

"Saa..." Fuji finally murmured, a vague smile on his face.

What had he been expecting? Tezuka certainly wasn't the type of person who did small talk. He pulled the blanket around himself tighter, then smiled at the merry-looking fire keeping him company, his eyes closed. His hair was still dripping water, and it was beginning to grow cold. He wasn't expecting the slip, and neither did he expect himself to fall into a stream on the first day.

After Fuji examined his camera to make sure it was safe, (he was privately thankful that he thought of using a waterproof case that day) the tensai stretched out on the floor and curled close to the fire in an attempt to sleep. There was a soft rustle near him, and he realised with a grin that Tezuka had taken the spot behind himself.

Before the smaller boy could turn around to face his vice-captain, the other had spoke up, his voice soft and almost inaudible. "Be more careful tomorrow."

The smile on Fuji's face widened.

After the fire slowly died out, Fuji continued lying on the floor beside Tezuka, enjoying the silence between them. In the almost peaceful darkness, the tensai's hand brushed against the other's by accident, but found it warm and welcoming.

Tezuka was the one who reached for his hand amidst the darkness.

For the first time since the incident which occurred last spring, a part of Fuji's mind finally calmed down. It was finally soothed and quietened.

They held hands until morning; even though they only had their fingers tangled, it had been a comforting feeling. Fuji woke up before Tezuka did, and sat on the floor watching the other sleep for a long period of time before he changed, then left the cabin. As he wandered around the area close to their cabin with a camera ready, he thought about a lot of things.

Tezuka wasn't someone who could be understood easily. That made Fuji want to understand him better. Know him from inside out. The touch they shared last night might have meant something. At the same time, it might have meant nothing. Even now, he wasn't very sure of what to make out of it.

But Fuji always believed that if he wanted something, he would come to possess it sooner or later. It was all a matter of time. Even if it seemed like an impossible task, he would find some way to overcome the obstacles. He wasn't afraid of hardships. Neither was he afraid of failure. And if it needed patience, he had it in bucketfuls. But on some days, he wasn't so sure of what was it that he wanted from Tezuka, despite the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that spoke of something more complicated than just friendship.

These were one of those days.

He had started out sure and confident. He knew that he wanted to become a part of Tezuka's world. He was still slowly working on that aspect of their relationship. But anything beyond that was vague and blurry to him. He wanted to be friends, and at the same time, he wanted to be something more than that. He wanted to know if Tezuka could accept that, or if he could even be friends with him at all. 

When the vice-captain found him later by the spot where he was fishing at yesterday, Fuji had given him a cheerful smile, then raised his camera to take a picture of the stern-faced boy. Tezuka didn't say anything.

Therefore Fuji didn't say anything either.

  
-----

  
Something had changed since their summer vacation, that was what Oishi felt upon seeing Tezuka and Fuji on the first morning of their second term. 

Although the both of them were walking towards the school compounds in silence, there was something tangible between them. Something so new and different, Oishi could almost see it. Something which wasn't exactly there before. He was surprised when Fuji came to him some time after their summer break started and asked if he knew what Tezuka's hobbies were.

Of course, Oishi had said the first thing that came to his mind. Fishing. After that, he also mentioned camping. Fuji seemed extremely cheerful when he put down the phone, but then again, Fuji had always been a rather cheerful person.

Oishi wasn't afraid to admit that he didn't understand Fuji. That was Kikumaru's job, understanding Fuji. He was only in charge of understanding Tezuka, and that alone was a handful. Fuji was the tensai of their school team. The quietly smiling and vague boy from Kikumaru's class. There was a certain type of prettiness to him, but if Oishi was to be truly honest, there was nothing about Fuji which resembled a girl.

Well, except for his looks and his too gentle nature.

Kikumaru adored Fuji like anything. He was extremely fond of the fair-haired boy, and spoke of him often. The bright-eyed acrobatic player was also prone to rambling at length about how evil Fuji could be sometimes, and how nobody on their team seemed to be _really_ nice, except for Oishi.

It was almost embarrassing to hear him say such things.

From Kikumaru, Oishi had learned several things about Fuji. One of them being the other boy was deeper than a well. He was so deep that nobody was ever sure of his depth, and nobody ever wanted to try and find out how deep the hole went. Oishi thought in an off-handed manner that Fuji and Tezuka were quite compatible for each other actually. Both of them with their silence and vagueness.

Fuji was friendly and cheerful, but at the same time, he had a barrier around him which kept people from getting too close. It wasn't obvious, but Oishi noticed it all the same. For Tezuka's case, the barrier around him might as well have been a physical barrier for all it was worth. Everyone could see it miles off. But Oishi could see the chinks in the vice-captain's armour, and he wasn't someone who would exploit it (much), so Tezuka left him alone with that knowledge.

They weren't friends and classmates for nothing.

Oishi would like to tell everyone that Tezuka was, in fact, a very nice person. He was simply too quiet, that was all. He had a gentle nature and an understanding heart. He was accepting of everyone, and he never judged people based on others' opinions. Most importantly, Tezuka was an extremely fair and logical person. He might not like hassles or useless wastages of precious time, but he certainly wasn't cold or mean.

Well, maybe a little cold, but that was all part of the package.

A part of Oishi was glad that Tezuka had found Fuji. Or Fuji had found Tezuka. Whichever it was, it was good for the both of them.

"Ohaaaaaiyooou nyaaa!" Kikumaru's cheerful morning greeting startled Oishi out of his thoughts, and he smiled at his doubles partner. "Ranking matches at the end of the month! I can't wait for them to start!"

The gentler member of the Golden Pair couldn't help shaking his head at Kikumaru's antics. The cat-like boy practically jumped onto his doubles partner to give him a huge bear hug.

"Moooou where's Fuji nyaa?"

A thoughtful look surfaced on Oishi's face. "He's with Tezuka. Practicing, I think..."

"Uuunnya! I'll go look for him now!"

And the hyperactive boy was gone, bouncing off towards the courts.

Oishi closed his eyes and inhaled deep, enjoying the cool morning air. He could just feel it in the air, all the good things that were waiting to happen this school term. The vacation had been a good break for everyone, himself included.

He was sure of it.

  
-----

  
With the last series of ranking matches they had to determine the regulars for their school team when term three began, Inui finally joined them in the ranks. He had shocked some of his year mates, and frightened the hell out of most of their lowerclassmen. His uncanny insight and information gathering made a number of students pale, Kaidoh especially. Some of them had difficulties accepting the fact that someone like Inui actually knew almost everything about them, from the type of toothpaste they used to the brand of underwear they wore.

For the first time since their second year began, Fuji was truly amused. Amused by Inui and his style of tennis play, amused by their junior's reactions, and most importantly, amused by how Tezuka said nothing at all. He didn't say a single word of opinion on the way Inui had collected every single piece of information he could get his hands on.

Fuji wondered absentmindedly if Inui actually knew the brand of Tezuka's underwear.

In the tensai's opinion, that next term could actually get fun.

The weather was rapidly turning cold, and practices during the winter vacation would be cancelled. The truth was, nobody actually wanted to do thirty laps worth of running around their school in freezing weather conditions, warm slacks and jackets or not. Fuji actually thought that it might be something fun to do, to say the truth. And since they were all moving around anyway, there should be no harm done to all the essential bits.

Apparently, Tezuka must have shared his philosophy, because up until the last day of school, all of them were made to run thirty laps around the school as a warm-up for each practice, regulars or not.

During each and every single one of these runs, Fuji would be beside Tezuka, keeping up with the other boy's pace with little difficulty. They never spoke a single word to each other, and yet, it felt as if they were still communicating, somehow. Faint brushes of arm against arm, glances that were too quick for the others to catch. Fuji with his happy and innocent smile, and Tezuka with his dead-pan expression.

"Haa..." Fuji leaned against one of the fences surround their tennis courts, a cheerful grin on his face. "That was a good run."

Clouds of mist formed around his mouth when he spoke or breathed, and it was the same for everyone. The new captain only watched Fuji in silence, the faintest glimmers of what could possibly be a smile, or a slightly tilted angle to his lips- taken from a different perspective.

"Fuji~! How can you say that nya?!" Kikumaru's whine was almost an unwelcomed intrusion after the moment shared between the two top tennis players of Seigaku.

"Maa..." There was a soft chortle from the tensai.

Peace was restored to the tennis club after practice was over. Most of them cleared out of school quickly to avoid the evening chill. Tezuka stayed behind to finish up some work left behind by the former captain in preparation for his new post as a captain next term, and Fuji decided to keep him company. Even Oishi and Kikumaru had left, with the latter chirping loudly at the top of his voice about how much he would like to go for a large, hot meal to warm up his insides.

The two boys stayed in the somewhat chilly locker room in silence, one brooding with an expressionless face over some papers, the other sitting with his back against the former, a quiet smile on his face.

When the silence in that small room got unbearable, Fuji turned round and reached over slowly to put his arms around Tezuka in a warm hug, careful to not disturb his papers.

"It's rather cold in here, isn't it?"

"Hm."

The tensai tucked his chin against the back of Tezuka's shoulder, eyes closed and a merry smile on his face.

He liked this.

It certainly would have been nice if he could hold onto the other for forever in this manner, but of course, reality intruded at the most unfortunate instances.

When Kaidoh opened the door to their locker room to find Tezuka and Fuji in the innocent, and yet somewhat wilful embrace, he muttered a low apology before back peddling like he had a pack of hounds nipping at his heels. The unfortunate first year student came back to pick up something he left behind in his haste to get out of school, but the last thing he had been expecting to see when he opened the door was the sight of Fuji holding Tezuka.

Fuji tried to stop himself from laughing by burying his face into the back of Tezuka's shoulder. The expression on Kaidoh's face had been priceless. He was sure that Inui would have liked to see it. The upperclassman seemed to have developed some sort of strange affection for the younger boy (if periodical stalking could be accounted for as fondness). It wasn't noticeable but Fuji, like Tezuka, was an unnaturally sharp person when it came to their club members, so nothing which ever happened in the club escaped him.

Kaidoh was a person who knew how to keep secrets, though. Fuji wasn't exactly worried about the discovery. Tezuka didn't say a single thing throughout the entire encounter and his gaze remained trained on the papers he held in his hands. Therefore, Fuji didn't bother to budge from the comfortable position he was in either.

A few moments later, Tezuka reached down and rested his hand on top of Fuji's, his voice quiet. "It's getting late. Let's go home."

And they went home. To Fuji's home, to be more precise, but that wasn't important.

It was what happened there that was important.

  
-----

  
They weren't really dating. Neither were they attempting to date, to say the truth. In fact, Tezuka found out that he actually couldn't give a straight answer when questioned. They were good friends, except that their relationship had also involved some things which they probably shouldn't be indulging in at their current age. He wanted to treat the tensai with care, but the latter wasn't fragile. It was true that Fuji had been hurt before. Badly. He was very sure of that. There was no way to refute that, in fact. He had seen it in the other's eyes when he found him in that toilet cubicle so long ago.

The simple fact that Fuji never said anything about the experience didn't mean it had never happened.

But when he actually chose to avoid talking about it, that had made Tezuka worry. He might be trying to hide the truth, or he might be trying to ignore it. Or he might have already faced it and gotten over it, so everything was fine.

Tezuka didn't know which speculation of his was the truth.

That issue had always been a sensitive topic between them. Whenever it was raised, it was also the only time where he saw something other than smiles or perplexed expressions on Fuji's face. There was sorrow there, true and deep, reflected in the hesitant look he carried on his face. There was some fear, told by the barely discernable twitch in his hand and the unavoidable tension.

There were scars.

Tezuka wanted to reassure Fuji that the past would never be able to hurt the present. That was what all of them lived in, after all. They all lived in the present. People who lived in the past had a tendency to get lost. Fuji wasn't someone who lived in the past, he was sure. He had seen his genuine smile. He had seen his amusement at certain things (that weren't exactly funny, to say the truth) and those were good enough indications that he wasn't living in the past.

Fuji was strong. Much stronger than anyone ever credited him for. Tezuka was sure that he wasn't the only one who noticed that fact. 

He was honoured that Fuji chose him, above everyone else.

But even the tensai couldn't possibly be blind to the fact that what they shared would never be complete. That incident would always be the marker in their relationship. The indicator of when things started to change and get warped to the point where he wasn't sure if he honestly liked Fuji enough to be with him, or if a part of himself actually pitied him.

Tezuka felt that it wasn't pity. He wasn't someone who gave out pity often, either. Not unless the person honestly deserved it. As deserving of pity as Fuji had been, it hadn't seemed _right_ to pity the other.

"Tezuka?" He glanced up from his musings, noting the way Oishi was watching him with a worried look on his face. Oishi was the mother of their team. Forever the worrier. Two years had done little to change the other of his habits of mothering everyone and anyone from their team.

"Hm?"

"You look tired..."

Tezuka turned away. "It's probably due to lack of sleep."

"You've been studying too hard lately."

There was no reply.

Their examinations were near. There was no way to avoid them. And after braving the hectic examinations, after enjoying their brief spring break, they would be back for another new school year. Their last year at Seigaku. A part of himself felt that he couldn't leave the school yet. He hadn't fulfilled his promise to himself.

And then there was Fuji.

Fuji had been on his mind rather frequently of late. He could guess why that was happening, but he wasn't sure if he was handling the situation correctly. He still didn't think there was pity between them. It would have made communication awkward. Fuji wasn't stupid, and even if Tezuka was honestly unable to sort through his feelings accurately, Fuji would be able to sense them.

Fuji Syuusuke.

Every time he closed his eyes, the other would surface in his mind as naturally as breathing.

Tezuka had reached out for him in the lonely darkness the both of them were trapped in. Burden by a secret which only they knew, the line connecting them was fragile and troubled, filled with echoes of what the past would have been like if that secret never existed.

Tezuka thought about Fuji reaching back for him, and realised that pity would never feel like what he felt the moment their fingers touched.

He had felt like he was coming home.

  
-----

  
On the first day of their third school year, all of the regulars (except Momoshirou) missed the grand entrance of the most arrogant member of their tennis club yet. They were away for a friendly match with another school, and Momoshirou stayed behind only because of his sprained ankle. Before their spring break, Ryuzaki-sensei had called Tezuka aside and alerted him of the strange first year student they would have joining them when the new school term starts.

He was a national junior champion in America. That alone had been something.

Nobody other than Ryuzaki-sensei, Oishi and himself were aware of the boy that would be tumbling into their lives and wrecking it with some sort of sadistic pleasure. Echizen Ryoma's arrogance was... refreshing. His arrogance was different from what the other first year student Horio had exhibited. His arrogance was fed by his self-confidence, and the fact that he actually _knew_ what he was doing and saying.

Everyone was in awe of him.

Tezuka found it disturbing to discover that the other was strangely similar to him when he first entered Seigaku.

Fuji seemed piqued by the younger boy, and noticed him often. Tezuka knew that he himself was noticing Ryoma too, and he noticed the younger boy far too frequently for it to be healthy. He saw great potential in the brat. The boy could reach heights which he might not be able to see, even. From the moment he set his eyes on Ryoma, Tezuka wanted to confirm for himself the boy's true strength. He wanted to know if it was really more than what he chose to show everyone.

And he was right.

But it also turned out that the younger boy was an expert at setting people off, apparently. Like what Tezuka did back then, he played with his right hand to appease his seniors when he could have easily done without the handicap. (It made Tezuka wonder too, if he had inevitably set off his senpai back then with what he did.) Later, of all the people he could choose from their tennis club to infuriate, he had to choose Arai. The slightly brash and loud-mouthed second year student who didn't know his own limits, and crossed the boundaries he (The Buchou) had set down more than often enough.

A part of himself was glad that Arai had more self-control than Takeshi did back then. He would not like... even something vaguely resembling what happened to Fuji back then happening again, if he could help it. Such things were not supposed to happen in a club where people played tennis because they loved the game, and not because they thought they could better everyone else with their skill.

With the new school term, Fuji also seemed distracted by Ryoma and the vague threat he possessed towards all the regulars in the club. Although both he and Fuji had nothing to worry about, it didn't mean that the other regulars were not concerned.

It would be easy to overlook the first year student. But most of them knew better than to do that, despite what all of them said about Ryoma being a nearly non-existent threat. Therefore, for their first series of ranking matches that term, Ryoma was slotted into the same group as Inui and Kaidoh.

His victory was one which nobody other than Tezuka and Fuji had expected. And as one victory after another occurred, after Ryoma showed true sportsmanship (and plain stubborn pride) with the way he played his match against Ibu Shinji from Fudomine during their prefecture tournaments... Fuji was no longer able to ignore the fact that Tezuka was extremely interested in Ryoma. It might have something to do with the fact that Ryoma's father was Echizen Nanjirou, and then again, it might have nothing to do with that at all.

Fuji wasn't dense. Neither was he blind. He could see those signs. Especially when they were blaring so loudly in his face.

Tezuka didn't know of the ideas Fuji had, though. Neither was he aware of what the tensai was thinking about. Fuji didn't always confide in Tezuka his opinions on matters of the club, and the latter never felt the need to ask him. Usually, the tensai would stand quietly by Tezuka's side while they observed matches in silence. He enjoyed those moments where the both of them seemed to be at peace with each other and with themselves. He liked the natural smile on Fuji's face, but he liked those moments where any expression other than a smile had surfaced even better.

Just a week or so prior to the practice match he had arranged for Fuji to play against Ryoma, Fuji was in an incredibly furious state after his match against Mizuki from St. Rudolph. And Fuji's anger wasn't explosive like Momoshirou or Kaidoh's. It was a type of quiet, cold, seething anger that could terrify the hell out of anyone who didn't know him better.

Although he never stopped smiling amicably for the rest of that day, Tezuka knew he was still angry.

That was one of the reasons why he eventually decided to use the rare arrangement of Fuji against Ryoma during one of their practice matches after the Fudomine match. Fuji needed diversion. And other than Ryoma, who else could provide a better form of distraction for the tensai?

"Ne Tezuka, was it the same for you when you played against Echizen?"

The sudden statement Fuji made after his incomplete match against Ryoma made Tezuka pause to consider whether he had meant something deeper with his words.

Eventually, Tezuka only replied with a simple, "You've found out?"

"Nn. My intuition said so."

Their trip home on that day was a quiet affair.

  
-----

  
Fuji didn't dream often. But when he did, he always dreamt of things which would reflect on an inevitable occurrence in reality. Maybe, while his sister had been extraordinarily gifted with the talent of reading tarot cards, he had been gifted with dreams. Not all of his dreams eventually came true, though. Yet, a large enough number of them did turn true, and therefore Fuji had learned not to ignore his dreams.

He never had nightmares.

Even after what happened back in his first year at Seigaku Junior High, there were no nightmares. Only a type of blank greyness existed. He didn't dream of anything. Or maybe, it might be more accurate to say that he dreamt of nothingness.

He wasn't afraid. Even while thinking back upon what happened then, while dabbling so carelessly in memories from that period of time in his life... he wasn't afraid. There was no fear. He wasn't afraid of them. Neither was he afraid of the pain, or the humiliation they tried to shower upon him so graciously.

He knew that deep within, his heart was far stronger than any of theirs. He had faith.

The humiliation he felt when Tezuka found him though... that was real. It was so real, it bit into his consciousness acutely, almost like the bite of a ferocious predator.

He hadn't intended for that to happen. He never wanted Tezuka to find him in such a vulnerable state. Fuji was strong. Stronger than most people, with a steel-like resolve and iron will. He was better than almost everyone he met, with the exception of Tezuka. That was why he never wanted to seem weak before the other.

But he was.

In that instance where Tezuka had found him, all his wounds laid open and raw before the other, he had revealed all his weaknesses without a second thought. There were no tears, but Fuji almost wished that there were.

Tonight, he dreamt of Tezuka.

He dreamt of himself, and of Tezuka. He dreamt of Ryoma, too. It seemed as though, regardless of the amount of distance he put between Ryoma and himself, regardless of the number of times he tried to move further away from the other... When he tried to create the polite distance between them, the younger boy crossed all hurdles without a second thought.

Fuji knew that Ryoma was pursuing him for the same reasons why he was pursuing Tezuka.

Strength called to strength.

He wanted to hold onto Tezuka. But even he could see the instance where he finally realised that there was no way he could ever defy fate, and gently let go of the buchou's hand. The distance between them grew greater and greater, and so did the chasm he created for himself. It was a constant and painful reminder of the route he wanted to set down for himself from the day he knew Tezuka.

Fuji woke up from his dream when he stopped turning around to look at Tezuka.

And the gut feeling he had when he opened his eyes in the darkness of his room, with his hand reaching out for a person who wasn't there... it told him that this was the truth, and he had to accept it.

The tensai closed his eyes and inhaled deep.

The truth was painful. He never said it wasn't. There was no utopia present in this world, regardless of how hard he tried to reach that place. There was no such thing as cushions for truths. In fact, the more one tried to make the truth less painful, the more painful it would get. He knew all that. He also knew that his dreams told of truths which he might not be able to accept. He understood that. But not all his dreams ever came true...

And he never had nightmares.

  
-----

  
"You like Echizen, don't you?"

Tezuka didn't say anything when Fuji suddenly tossed the question at him after one of their late private practices. He didn't know what answer the other was expecting, and since he had none to begin with, so he offered nothing.

The tensai might be persistent when it came to things that caught his fancy, but he certainly wasn't stupid enough to make an annoyance out of himself. He knew when to stop talking, when to stop asking questions that cut deeper than they appeared to, and he knew when to stop acting like an idiot.

But he didn't know when to stop smiling.

Tezuka didn't like it when he gave that fake smile of his.

Not many people were able to tell apart Fuji's real and fake smile. Tezuka happened to be one of those who could do that. Ryoma happened to be another of those, but nobody knew about that fact yet, so there was no harm done. Fuji's fake smiles reminded Tezuka of too many things which he didn't want to think about.

And currently, he felt that he already had enough on his mind.

He didn't believe that Fuji actually saw signs of himself liking Ryoma. It hadn't seemed possible. Despite how well Fuji knew him, that reason alone wasn't enough for him to make the assumption that Tezuka liked Ryoma. He might have showed an incredible amount of interest in the younger boy, but anyone who had eyes could see that his interest had nothing to do with whether he liked the other or not.

He wanted Ryoma to become the pillar of Seigaku. That was the only thing on his mind.

Fuji seemed concerned about something else.

If Tezuka didn't know better, he would say that Fuji was beginning to disappear. From his mind and from around his side. Though the tensai stayed around him frequent enough, he was away from Tezuka's side often enough that nobody ever took notice of the fact that there was something between the two of them.

The buchou wasn't asking for anything, but it didn't mean that he wasn't concerned.

Maybe that was why, by the time their match against Hyotei rolled around, he wasn't surprised by Fuji's choice of showering an impressive amount of attention on Ryoma. There was a challenge present in the way he spoke to Ryoma, and yet, at the same time, there was... something different present.

He could guess what that was, but he didn't want to.

He had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. He would be leaving for his treatment in a week's time. The match against Atobe had damaged his shoulder quite badly. Though Fuji never said anything about it, Tezuka could sense the other's... disapproval at what he chose to do back then. But Tezuka believed that he did the right thing. There was something he wanted to show his team members, and he had done exactly that. Tennis wasn't just a game of wits and physical endurance.

Before he left the country though, there were some things he wanted to talk to Fuji about.

Because he wouldn't be able to train Ryoma while he was gone, Fuji would have to help him. He knew that the tensai probably wouldn't disagree, but the competitive feeling between Fuji and Ryoma had been upped by several notches of late. It might have something to do with Fuji's match against Akutagawa Jiroh in the semi-finals of their Kantou tournaments. The open declaration of war from Fuji had been a rare sight.

Tezuka wondered briefly if Ryoma actually knew what he was getting into.

"Tezuka?"

The bespectacled boy looked up from where he was going through some papers he need to hand to Oishi before he left. "Yes?"

Fuji stood before him, a charming smile on his face. Everyone else had already left the school. It's been an hour or so since practice ended. "Take care."

"Hm." There was a pause. "Fuji... I'm going to need your help."

The smile on the tensai's face never wavered. "Hm?"

"Help me train Echizen while I'm gone."

"Ahh. I see."

Tezuka turned back to his papers, standing up to reach for something in the shelf above him. Before he could sit down again, Fuji had already wrapped his slender arms around Tezuka's body from behind, his face hidden in the latter's back.

The buchou thought briefly about what he should say to Fuji before realising that there was nothing he wanted to say in that moment, wrapped in the familiar and fragile silence between the both of them.

Therefore he said nothing.

  
-----

  
Echizen Ryoma wanted to tell his senpai that another person's heart couldn't be given away as and when one felt like it.

Therefore he did.

"Ne Fuji-senpai..." The younger boy had pulled his cap low. "You can't give another person's heart away, even if you do own it."

"Hm?" The puzzled look Fuji gave him was familiar.

The both of them were eating at a fast food restaurant after one of their private practice matches when Ryoma suddenly decided that small talk between seniors and juniors was not an uncommon thing. Therefore, there was nothing wrong with him initiating a conversation which he might or might not be interested in.

Fuji had been slowly nudging him towards the idea of dating Tezuka. Ryoma was pretty sure of that. All those not-quite-hints and barely-there-encouragements... he was beginning to get annoyed with them. Ryoma wasn't blind. He might be a little dense when it came to relationships that involved girls (and boys) but he certainly wasn't oblivious towards the world around him. There were signs, and he was an observant person (even though his world revolved around playing tennis most of the time.) He would notice them sooner or later.

For Ryoma, the stakes probably weren't as high as it would be for Fuji. In fact, Ryoma was perfectly happy to sit back and let things happen in their due course. He had enough patience for that. He wasn't a nosy person. Neither was he a blabbermouth. He knew how to keep secrets, and he knew how to recognise a secret when he saw one.

Fuji probably thought that nobody could tell, since he was such a vague person all on his own. But Ryoma did notice, and like Kaidoh, he was a secret keeper. He knew which secrets were meant to be kept, and which were safe for telling. The secret he knew he had to keep would be the truth about Tezuka and Fuji's relationship.

The tensai was purposely being obtuse about it whenever Ryoma mentioned the issue in an off-handed manner. And since Fuji wanted to do things that way, Ryoma saw no reason not to play along. Of course, it would be easier to just come out and say the truth, but then again, some truths were not meant to be said until the time was right.

He felt that the time was right today.

"Buchou is not a possession for you to give away, even if you think that he will be better off with me."

The expression on Fuji's face was still the same faintly perplexed look. He didn't even twitch.

"Maa... what are you talking about?"

"Ehh... heki na. Fuji-senpai, you should know what I'm talking about though."

The slanted-eyed look Ryoma gave Fuji would have been amusing had the tensai been in the correct mood and situation to appreciate it. There was nothing but silence for several moments, then Fuji opened his eyes to regard Ryoma fully.

The younger boy thought he saw something sad and wistful flash in those sharp blue orbs before it disappeared, swallowed up by the coldness that was surfacing rapidly in them.

"I've never possessed him to begin with... Echizen."

Ryoma thought about what Fuji said, then shrugged. "Mada mada dane."

He knew the tensai would be able to understand his (purposely) vague answer.

Life wasn't simple, but who ever said it was?

  
-----

  
In a way, Ryuzaki-sensei was glad that the club didn't fall to bits after Tezuka left for Germany. Although Oishi's management tactics were, by no means, gentler than Tezuka's, (some of the students said they were worse, actually) the improvement in everyone was still remarkable. This proved that talent, when trained and guided accordingly, could produce amazing results.

The nationals were drawing near.

She was amazed by the amount of progress they made in that year alone. For as long as she had been in Seigaku, she could say that the team she was given that year was one of the best yet. There was no other better combination. Although Tezuka was away from the team, the remaining regulars still managed to do him proud. He would be glad to know that when he returned.

But lately... she had noticed something interesting between two regulars. It might be because her silly granddaughter was infatuated with one of them and often alerted her of his presence, or it might also be because the other was rather infamous for being a sadist in all accounts... Whichever the reason was, Ryuzaki-sensei found that she had difficulties trying to ignore what was going on.

Fuji and Ryoma were spending an unnaturally large amount of time together.

She wasn't a stranger to such relationships, to say the truth. She had coached enough batches of boys to recognise those signs when she saw them. But there was something different about this one and she couldn't quite place her finger on what seemed to be wrong.

It might have something to do with the fact that while the both of them spent an unhealthy amount of time together, the type of intimacy between them hadn't been what she always saw in those relationships. In fact, if she was looking for a perfect example to emphasise her point, she wouldn't pick Fuji and Ryoma. She would have better luck trying to explain what that type of intimacy was by using Oishi and Kikumaru as examples.

If only Tezuka was around. That boy had a sharp eye for details like these, and if she was to ask him, she was sure he could pin-point what was wrong with it in a moment.

The part of herself who refused to recognise the fact that she was indeed, already a grandmother -the part of her who was still a coach at heart- said that she had other concerns to deal with. Rather than going around guessing what the boys in her team were up to, she might have better luck doing the team formation for the next match. But she was a grandmother after all, and she was a mother (regardless of how old her brats were because children would always be children to their parents,) so of course she had reasons to be concerned.

Come to think of it, maybe she would have better luck telling Sakuno to back off.

It might do the silly girl some good to get out of her (blind) infatuation before she found out the truth and cried her eyes out while hiding in her room for weeks again. She did that the last time Ryoma ignored her. And although it might be a little cruel to say this (since Sakuno was her granddaughter after all) she was glad that Ryoma did what he did.

Sakuno had a fair bit of growing up to do.

At any rate, Ryoma never knew how to treat girls right anyway. She would say that the brat of their team probably needed lessons on how to treat girls properly, but seeing that he was with Fuji at the moment, there probably wasn't such a need after all.

And that wasn't what he was in school for, after all. It seemed as though Ryoma's ambition to be at school was to play tennis, play tennis and play more tennis.

The girls in his surroundings might as well be decorative backdrops.

Anyway... (!) that was the last thing on Ryuzaki-sensei's mind. Ryoma was Fuji's problem, not hers. The nationals were drawing near and they couldn't afford to be distracted, much. Since Ryoma and Fuji didn't look as if they were distracting each other at all either, she probably didn't have a problem on her hands.

All she had to do was wait for Tezuka to return.

One more week, and the buchou of Seigaku would be back.

Then there would be much rejoicing, she was sure.

Much, much rejoicing.

  
-----

  
Although the buchou was happy to find out they had fought their way to the nationals when he returned from Germany, he wasn't happy to see Fuji's reactions at his return. Of course, he wasn't expecting Fuji to be all excited and overjoyed at the sight of him. Fuji wasn't someone who would indulge in any excessive displays of his emotions (unless it was meant for terrorising their lowerclassmen.) But the polite smile he gave (perfectly normal for someone to give his fellow team mate, apparently) and the distant attitude he assumed was strange.

It felt out of place, and it made Tezuka worry.

A part of the buchou reflected on the fact that he seemed to worry about Fuji a lot, and he seemed to worry about him in unsuitable amounts too.

But the worry... he knew where it stemmed from, and he knew that Fuji wouldn't be happy if he found out about it. In fact, he himself wasn't happy about it either. It wasn't unlike him to care for another, but to be overly concerned was different from plain curiosity about the other's condition.

There were too many questions on Tezuka's mind, but there wasn't the need to voice them out at the moment. Maybe... Fuji would approach him when the nationals were over. The tensai had some weird quirks, and even though Tezuka already knew him for over two years, he couldn't understand every single quirk the other boy had.

So he waited.

It felt vaguely reminiscent of his summer vacation a year back, when he waited for Fuji to approach him regarding their pre-assumed summer trip. Even though the current summer was almost over and autumn was fast approaching, Tezuka didn't think that this time was going to be any different from the last.

Sometime in the middle of their second term, Tezuka realised that Fuji wasn't going to approach him.

It had felt strange, the abrupt absence of a person who stayed around him so much since their first year. Fuji had almost become something like a constant presence by his side. It didn't affect Tezuka much, but he would find himself thinking of the tensai at certain instances, wondering about what he might possibly be doing at the moment.

Since Tezuka didn't really talk to Fuji much since he returned from Germany, he spent all the time he would usually spend with Fuji playing against Ryoma. The tensai had done a good job. The improvement Ryoma made was astounding. Tezuka knew that Ryoma was someone who could adapt and improvise quickly, but he didn't expect the lowerclassman to catch up so quickly.

In fact, he didn't know a single thing about what Fuji and Ryoma did in his absence.

When Fuji suddenly chose to start talking to him again, he often spoke of Ryoma. Just Ryoma. Never about himself, never about Tezuka, unless it had something to do with Ryoma. And never about them. Tezuka knew that there wasn't a 'them'. But he couldn't possibly look back upon their second year and call what they shared a lie.

He couldn't understand what was wrong, but he was never a person to question another unnecessarily. There wasn't exactly a need at the moment. Not yet. All the nudging Fuji did... it felt as if he was pushing Tezuka towards Ryoma, but he was clever enough to make it subtle and unnoticeable.

The buchou wanted to know why he was doing all that, though. Granted, there was something about Ryoma which caught Tezuka's eye from the moment he met him, but that was hardly a good enough reason to justify why he was being encouraged to date the younger boy.

It felt as if... it felt as if Fuji was slowly distancing himself from Tezuka. He was here, physically. He was by his side, still, but the smile he wore on his face was no longer genuine. It was almost like the tensai had already forgotten how to smile. The emotional distance between them was like a huge yawning gap. An emotional distance which had never existed before.

"Ne buchou," Echizen. The younger boy must have spent a lot of time with Fuji while he was gone, since he did ask Fuji to train him after all. "Are we going to have another match soon?"

"Hm." Ryoma seemed to take his murmur as some sort of affirmative.

The two of them stood on the empty tennis court in silent companionship for a long period of time, before Ryoma finally spoke up again.

"Why don't you talk to Fuji-senpai?" 

"Hm?"

"You're worried about him, right?"

"Hm." Tezuka thought about what Ryoma said, then put it aside. A change of topic seemed necessary. "How was your training with Fuji?"

"We played a lot of tennis. Fuji-senpai is very good." Ryoma seemed to be thinking about something else. "But I'm better than him."

"Hm," Tezuka continued watching the younger boy with his expressionless face, waiting for him to continue.

"And we dated, a little."

In the silence that followed, Tezuka almost thought that he had heard something wrong. But the surprise must have showed up on his face; the faintest twitch of eyebrows, the almost unnoticeable widening of his eyes. And the shock in his eyes. Because when Ryoma spoke up again, he seemed to be re-emphasising on what he just said.

"Fuji-senpai makes a good boyfriend."

And that, to put it simply, was the end of their conversation. Because Tezuka didn't feel the need to reply, and Ryoma thought he had done enough prodding for that day.

Even after he discovered what Fuji had been up to while he was gone and reflected upon his past actions, Tezuka thought that something was still not quite right. All the nudging and hint-dropping from the tensai continued... it got to a point where Tezuka was unable to tolerate it anymore. 

So he took the most direct approach to solve that problem.

He spoke to Fuji.

  
-----

  
"If you are concerned about what's keeping us together, I can only tell you it's not pity."

"Really?" The innocent smile on Fuji's face would have been infuriating if Tezuka had not known him long enough to ignore the bait.

"Yes."

"Are we even together to begin with?"

The question was a cruel one. "Not really."

"Saa... I'm not really concerned about whether we're together or not, Tezuka." Fuji turned away from where he was standing outside the tennis courts, watching the cold weather slowly bleached colours out of the school compounds. Watching winter arrive. It was really very cold, and his breaths actually formed little clouds of mist when he spoke or breathed.

Tezuka had found him. He wasn't hiding from the other... but he didn't really want to see the other either. There was no such need. The buchou was supposed to realise that Ryoma was waiting for him, that Ryoma was what he wanted, and it was time to move on, because Fuji had already moved on.

That was almost a lie.

"But, what's holding us together... it _is_ pity, Tezuka." Fuji smiled. It wasn't a cruel smile. But it wasn't kind either. "Don't you think I can tell how you feel about what happened to me? You might not know your own emotions well, but I can see them."

There was a faint frown between Tezuka's brows. "I know what I feel."

"Hmmn..." The smile on Fuji's face was unchanging, even was he started walking towards their school. "Maybe. But I know sympathy when I see it. And there is nothing but sympathy between us. You're only pitying me."

The frown deepened. "It's not pity or sympathy, Fuji."

"Maa... Tezuka, you don't have to lie to make me feel better."

"I'm not lying."

For a long period of time, Fuji didn't know what to say.

"I'm not going to claim that you are. Such arguments are silly. We're no longer children..." Fuji found that he couldn't turn around to meet Tezuka's stare.

"You don't believe me."

"I..." The tensai stopped. Tezuka had hugged him from behind. The sudden move was uncharacteristic of the buchou, and yet, it felt as if he was trying to hold onto something. Trying to hold onto Fuji. The school term was ending... there was no more reason for them to meet each other again next term. Tennis clubs activities would be stopped for all the third year students, because they had to prepare for their promotional examinations.

Winter was coming.

A season of frost, of death. Of parting, and of stillness. 

What an apt time for the two of them to say their goodbyes.

This was a parting, and the both of them knew it.

Fuji lowered his head and smiled, a little wistfully. Nobody would find them, because school was long over and everybody had returned home. He briefly wondered why was it that they always picked such instances to have their little dramatic moments. Maybe the two of them did have a lot to hide, after all. The club practice had ended early that day, due to the forthcoming cold weather. So... nobody would be around to witness his breakdown.

The tensai held onto Tezuka's hands, which were wrapped firmly around his midriff. The taller boy said nothing. These periods of silence between them... Fuji always wondered about them. He wondered about what could possibly be on Tezuka's mind at such moments. Now, he would no longer have any reason or opportunity to know, because he was going to throw them all away.

He didn't want to let go, but he had to, eventually.

Fuji wanted to stop his hands from trembling. But he was sure that Tezuka would notice that fact, regardless. He was brave. He was strong. He never cried, and he never would. This wasn't something worth crying over.

Tezuka's heart never belonged to him to begin with.

"Saa... it's late, Tezuka. I should be getting home."

"Don't run away from the truth, Fuji."

"I'm not," the smile on his face was bright enough that it must have hurt to look at it. "You are the one who's running away from the truth, Tezuka. There will never be anything but pity and sympathy between us. Even if it is possible for there to be something else connecting us... what happened back then will always hurt our relationship. Because you can't forget the damage done to me, and I can't forget it either. So I would rather keep our friendship, than ruin it with what we can never have."

"Just let it go, Tezuka..."

  
-----

  
The thread connecting them had broke.

In the instance where he reached out for Fuji, Tezuka thought that he could almost see the tensai disappearing.

Because it felt like he was going to. And that was why he reached out for him, to hold onto him, somehow. It was true that the flimsy connection between them had finally broke. Though their relationship wasn't based on that event alone, that event itself had been the beginning. And when relationships started off on such a rocky base, nothing good would ever come out of it.

Just like back then when he first discovered Fuji in the toilet cubicle, he wondered if there was anything he could have done to prevent things from turning into their current state. He wondered if he could have put a stop to the tensai's downward spiralling thoughts, somehow.

He wondered about a lot of things.

He wanted to reach for the broken line still flapping between them. Wanted to hold onto it, but it slipped through his fingers easily, just like water. Maybe he should question himself instead. Maybe he should ask himself why he was still trying so hard to hold on, when Fuji no longer wanted to bother, even. Maybe he should ask himself... what was it that he wanted from Fuji.

He wanted to be friends, and at the same time, he wanted to be something else.

That strange feeling he had of wanting to become closer, it was something which only the two of them shared. It had been present in their relationship from the very first day they got to know each other. It was tangible, it wasn't overly obvious, and only the both of them could see it. Fuji tried to make that feeling disappear over time... tried to let it become something insignificant in comparison to what Tezuka shared with Ryoma.

What he did... it was almost unfair.

That was true. Because this issue didn't just involve Fuji alone. It involved him too. And Tezuka was sure that he had the same rights as Fuji to voice his own opinions. He wanted to make the other listen to what he had to say. He wanted to tell Fuji about the feeling of homecoming he felt on the very first time they reached out for each other's hands. He wanted to tell Fuji about how it seemed to never stop feeling like he was coming home when he was with him. Not even once, despite the number of times they had touched.

He could remember a lot of things, both happy and sad, both good and bad. And he wanted Fuji to remember them too. He couldn't simply just throw them away.

As he watched Fuji walk further and further away, the feeling of him disappearing began to surface again.

Tezuka felt like closing his eyes. He felt like sighing. He felt like holding on. But he did none of those.

He thought about apathy, and knew that this was a choice which only he could make.

There was now way he could stop Fuji from embarking on the road he had chosen for himself. Should it be self-destructive, or even be filled with painful encounters, there was no way Tezuka could step in and stop him from moving further. He didn't have the right to. Fuji never gave him the permission to.

Because this was his choice.

He could try and make Fuji listen, though. He might not be good at explaining himself, he might not even be good at speaking up, actually. But he could certainly try. And after that, it would be up to the tensai to decide if he really wanted to stay... or leave. Only then... would the choice be wholly his.

Because he couldn't simply disappear in this manner.

  
**end**

Date Completed: 280703  
Date Revised: 290703

**After notes:**  
THIS, is one of the most friggin difficult fic I have ever written. It gave me headaches. It gave me plenty of headaches. And it made my muses hate me. And even after all was said and done, I think it sucks. To be honest. Really. I think Tezuka talks too much (in his head.) I had a chance to work on their strange relationship, but I think I failed in the justifying department. *sniffles* And Fuji-muse just declared that I'm the biggest idiot on earth (for making him sound like a sap.) *weeps*

Don't mind me if I don't make sense now. My brain just conked out. It is currently dead. Deader than dead. Very, very dead. I've been editing the last two portions (the worst two portions too) of the fic for the past two hours. Trying to ensure those portions MAKE SENSE. Which they don't, I think. And I had to cut a chunk of my fic out and throw it into drafts.

I still have to run through this fanfic again, somehow *whimpers* The next time someone suggests writing another TezuFuji, I'll personally shoot him/her. Understood? No flames are entertained if you're not satisfied with this fic though. I never said I wrote fics to satisfy anybody other than myself. (But of course you all know that I wuv you right? *big watery eyes*)


End file.
